


Dreaming of You

by shutupnerd



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, LMAO, Lio and Galo live together, M/M, Nightmares, Pining, and trauma, but they aren’t dating yet, himbo supreme, lio has a stuffed animal, lio has nightmares, sleepover, so does galo, they both have trouble sleeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:47:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24970303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shutupnerd/pseuds/shutupnerd
Summary: Lio has nightmares more often than he’d like to admit.
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 3
Kudos: 143





	1. Chapter 1

He didn’t sleep well. He never had, really, but this was  _ different.  _ Being alone and on the run and simply trying to survive was a different kind of restless sleep. The threat was external. But now, the inhibition came from Lio himself.

He stared straight up at the ceiling, breathing heavily and shivering in a cold sweat. The couch was soft underneath him, moonlight softly leaking in from behind the curtain. He could hear Galo snoring from the recliner, openmouthed and dead to the world. Lio grimaced just slightly, a pang of guilt eating at his stomach. It was quickly lost in the mix of everything else that had woken him up, but he felt the flash of it nonetheless.

They’d argued about it, when Lio first (reluctantly) came to stay with him. Galo insisted on giving him the bed, Lio flat-out refused. He wasn’t going to take the bed; he was a guest. But whenever Lio curled up on the couch, Galo took the recliner.

“I’m not just gonna leave you alone, ya know,” he’d said the first night. “If you don’t take the bed, neither will I!” Galo was...an idiot, but he wasn’t  _ stupid,  _ if that made sense. He was reckless and loud and stubborn, but he always seemed to pick up exactly when Lio was upset or confused. He was sure Galo had figured out that Lio didn’t want the bed because he felt like an inconvenience. He was taking things he shouldn’t be taking; food and space and shelter without pay (Lio had brought it up. Galo stared him dead in the eye and refused.) or even so much as helping beyond cleaning and cooking. 

So he was, in his own ridiculous way, trying to prove that Lio was welcome. He appreciated the gesture, but Galo belonged  _ in his own bed.  _ He was a firefighter, a rescue worker. He needed—deserved—a better rest than he got on that recliner. 

But they did seem to sleep better when the other was close by. Not together, not the same bed. Neither of them had even wanted to broach that compromise. Honestly, he wasn’t sure if he’d even be able to sleep right next to someone right now. He’d done it before out of necessity (several nights squeezed between Gueira and Meis came to mind), but it was...different, now.

Galo was a touchy person; he grabbed things in his sleep. His poor “hugging pillow” was now tight in his grip—not too dissimilar to how Lio was curled around his little stuffed rabbit. It was one of his only possessions, the single thing that survived his turbulent childhood. Nothing else was left. It had been abandoned or burned. (Rather like him.)

He hated to admit it, so he hadn’t said a word. But he was scared. He focused his gaze on something he  _ knew  _ wasn’t in the pod or the Parnassus. The unlit light fixture passively stared down at him, something almost sympathetic in its darkness. He had to always remind himself now that he was in Galo’s apartment, and he wasn’t being hunted. Nobody was going to ever handcuff him or encase him ice or...or tie him down ever again. Not that it mattered all too much. Every waking moment felt like he had just escaped the ice—freezing cold and harsh. The hum, the warmth in his core that brought flame to his hands and meaning to his life was gone. He was always cold now, bundled up in an old sweatshirt that was Galo’s—sweatpants that were Aina’s. Even with the drawstrings pulled, he was too short and skinny for them to fit. 

But while he hated the cold, and shivered despite the summer night and his layered blankets, he wasn’t  _ afraid  _ of it. The cold wasn’t what scared him about the ice. It was the immobility that came with it—literally being frozen into place. He slowly sat up, avoiding looking at the little white scars (gifts of the barbed wire.) that had been exposed when his sleeves bunched up. He breathed a sigh of relief. He  _ knew  _ he wasn’t in restraints, but visual confirmation never hurt. 

If he was honest, it had started to become a problem—the fear of not being able to move. Being trapped. He couldn’t go into the closet—even the shower was hard on bad days. And God  _ forbid  _ someone hug him.

Galo meant well, he really did, and it was Lio’s fault for not telling him, but he had panicked the first time someone had wrapped their arms around him. All he could see and feel was Kray—his fist breaking Lio’s ribs, Galo being thrown off the side of the ship, being carried off and further tied down to the engine. Tied down to  _ become  _ the engine, surrounded by the screams of everyone he couldn’t save. He  _ couldn’t move  _ then. He couldn’t move when people hugged him. 

The first hug had been not long after the Parnassus crashed. Coincidentally, that’s how they found out Kray had broken three of his ribs. The adrenaline of the moment had worn off not long after that fist bump. The reality of what he’d been through crashed down on him and he had fallen to his knees—in pain, in exhaustion, in a thousand overwhelming things. Galo had squatted down next to him, asked him some things he didn’t really hear. Then he pulled him into a hug. 

Just like that, he was back in Kray’s fist. Nevermind that Kray no longer had that hand. No longer even had the Promare. Neither of them did. But he still felt trapped and terrified. If he opened his eyes, Galo would be falling again. 

So he’d pushed away and blamed it on his broken ribs. He hadn’t yet been able to pick up on Lio’s tells; he was observant, but he didn’t know Lio quite like that yet. He did now. That came with living with each other for a month.

_ An entire month. I’ve been here an entire month.  _ He stared mutely down at his untied wrists. There were still bandages on his upper arms, where the barbed wire had cut and torn deeply. Most were faded to scars all over his arms and legs, but some had torn as he worked and tried to help rebuild alongside everyone else. He’d hampered his own recovery and breathing still hurt sometimes (his chest always ached by the end of the day), but it was all worth it if he could help.

He couldn’t sleep because of everything, really, but he  _ always  _ dreamt that he was trapped, in handcuffs or Kray’s fist or his Parnassus pod. Nightmares taunted him, whispering terrible  _ what-ifs:  _ what if he hadn’t been able to save Galo? What if Galo hadn’t gotten there fast enough? What if he hadn’t lost? What if he  _ had  _ killed Kray or burned Promepolis to the ground? Would the world have erupted, then? With no way to stop it? Would the Burnish still have the Promare but still be hunted?

He shook his head, his little bunny resting in his lap. He couldn’t get trapped in that spiral of thoughts. He was here, sleeping on Galo’s couch, in Galo’s apartment.

(He couldn’t yet bring himself to call it home.) 

He wrapped a blanket around himself and gently put his rabbit under his arm. Some water and pain medication would help him calm down. He wouldn’t have to think about  _ why  _ his ribs hurt. 

As soon as he flicked on the kitchen light, Galo stirred, his eyes slowly opening.

“Lio?”

“Sorry. Go back to sleep.”

But he pushed the recliner down and got up, rubbing his eyes. “Ribs bugging you again? Still cold?” 

He nodded slowly, placing Bunny on the counter to open the refrigerator. He grabbed the water pitcher and poured himself and Galo a glass. “I’ll be okay.” He would always be okay. He had to always be okay—too many people depended on him for him to not be okay.

Galo’s brow furrowed. “You want me to turn down the air conditioner? It’s okay, you know. I’ll be fine.” One look at him, and you could tell he had been sweating. He wasn’t  _ fine. _

Neither of them were fine, Lio realized. 

“No,” he said sternly, handing him the water. “I’m going to be alright. You’re overheating.” 

“Nah, I’m not!” His easy, sleepy grin was back. Lio loved it when he smiled, though he’d never admit it. He swallowed the pills, something churning in his stomach.

But then his face turned a bit more serious. “You’ve been waking up a lot lately.” 

He shrugged, even if the action hurt. “Cold.”

“It’s not  _ just  _ cold, is it?”

And just like that, Galo had seen through him. Lio’s shoulders slumped as he traded the empty water glass for his rabbit. “No.”

“You’re having bad dreams too, huh?”

He nodded. 

“Wanna talk about it? Want a hug—“

“ _ No—“  _ he sprang back from Galo’s opening arms. “No hugs. Not...not yet. But we can...talk. I guess.”

His face fell a little, but he nodded, going back to the living room and sitting on the couch. He turned on the lamp, patted the cushion beside him. “It’s okay, firecracker. You can talk to me.”

He slumped into the cushion, Galo hesitantly patting his shoulder. He’d picked up that Lio didn’t like hugs early on—he’d never stopped offering, but he did start asking before swooping in with open arms.

“Do you wanna talk? Or do you want a bedtime story or something? I’m not gonna push you to tell me what you don’t wanna talk about.”

Even just that much began to lighten his mood. Galo certainly had his fair share of moments, but he always seemed to know how to help Lio when he was angry or upset. It was...kind of endearing.

“I...I keep dreaming about Kray,” he mumbled, wrapping the blanket tighter around him. “But if that upsets you, we don’t have to talk about it.”

He didn’t want to hurt Galo. This was a sore spot for them both.

“No, it’s okay.” His voice was unfairly kind and gentle. “I’m a big boy, I can handle it. Especially if it’s hurting you.”

His chest tightened, and it had nothing to do with his broken ribs. “I...I keep dreaming about…” the words were hard to push out.

“Take your time.”

He just wanted to burn. Let off his fear and anger by setting everything around him ablaze. But they were gone, and he was just as flammable as everything else. “What if I hadn’t been fast enough?” he blurted out. “What if my fire hadn’t gotten to you first and you fell? I could’ve avoided you being hurt—Kray wouldn’t have gotten me if I wasn’t so  _ weak  _ and I didn’t let him goad me into attacking—“

His eyes widened. “Whoa, whoa. It’s okay. Take a breath. I’m here and I’m okay. Your fire  _ did  _ protect me, and I got to you, right?” He took Lio’s hand in a loose grip. “I’ve kinda figured out that you’re scared of hugs and stuff—is that because of when he crushed you?”

His eyes widened. Then he nodded slowly, free arm clutching his bunny to his chest. “Yes. I  _ can’t stand  _ feeling like I can’t move. And I don’t want to hurt you, but you’re  _ big  _ and  _ strong  _ and I just…” he sighed, frustrated. His words never came out right when they needed to most. “Hugs make me feel like I’m trapped again.”

“That’s okay.” He smiled again, and Lio was once again reminded that he was safe, he was okay. The hand on his was steadying him, not trapping him. “I’m not gonna push your limits anymore, okay? I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“You didn’t. You’ve never scared me.” And it was the honest truth. “Thank you for listening.”

“Of course! I want to make sure you’re doin’ okay, you know?” 

He nodded again, squeezing Galo’s (admittedly massive) hand. It was almost strange how well they fit together. 

He needed to sleep, they both did, but he could tell Galo didn’t want to leave. Neither did Lio.

He sighed. He couldn’t be held, but…

He laid down, resting his head on Galo’s lap. “Is this alright?”

“Yeah! I’m  _ way _ more comfy than those couch pillows you insist on using!” He curled up too, leaning back on the armrest. “Sleep good, firecracker. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Maybe sharing a bed wasn’t such a bad idea after all. 

  
  



	2. galo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he sees more than he says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was only supposed to be a oneshot but what can i say. i’m invested.

Galo wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box, but he prided himself on being able to tell when people were upset. He’d always had an affinity for noticing the second someone was uncomfortable or afraid, and tonight had been no different. The last several nights had been no different—Lio was waking up scared out of his mind.

Galo had caught him crying before. He would sit there quietly, staring at his hands while tears dropped down. He didn’t know what to do, really—he showed his love through touch, through slinging an arm around someone and wiping their tears away. But the first time Lio had seized up after Galo hugged him, he had instantly known it wasn’t his ribs that bothered him. He’d humored Lio, didn’t test his limits, but he knew it was far deeper than a broken bone that made him keep everyone at arm’s length. 

The hospital they’d been checked into had been cold. Really, really cold. It was hell for Galo, meaning it was even worse for Lio, who shivered day and night in his hospital gown while they treated the bashing and bruising of his internal organs and broken ribs, along with a fair few immune system bolstering shots. (Kray had smashed him like a soda can. Galo had heard the crack when Lio was grabbed.) They’d actually tried to keep him longer and further treat his malnutrition. But it was enough of a struggle to get him to finish his meals, much less keep him confined in that freezing building. 

He’d been through a lot. Nobody could deny that. Nobody blamed him for being scared or hiding his fear. 

But he’d never actually carried his rabbit with him when he woke up. When he wasn’t asleep with it tucked under his arm (like he was right now, cuddled around it), the scrappy little thing sat floppy-eared on the couch cushion, waiting for Lio to return. Maybe it had been purple in another time, but it was so faded and dirty that it was almost grey. Galo would have to put it in the washing machine when the other wasn’t looking. It had been enough of a fight for Lio to let Galo actually put his clothes in the washing machine instead of cleaning them himself in the tub. 

That bunny was one of two things he’d taken to Galo’s apartment (the other had been a hairbrush). Aside from the clothes on his back, that was all he had. It kind of made Galo sad, in a way. He deserved more than that. A lot more. He knew Lio was kinda...embarrassed about it, about not having much or not knowing much about living with a roof over his head. He got frustrated over not being able to hold his own—Galo could tell he hated asking for help over things that he knew were common knowledge.

But how the hell would Lio know how to do stuff like use a phone or change the temperature settings on a thermostat? He’d said that his first awakening was when he was seven and his parents had abandoned him to Freeze Force. Seven. He sighed and absentmindedly carded his fingers through Lio’s hair. It didn’t fall out nearly as much as it used to. Galo had only seen him shirtless that one day—but how skinny he was would always stay in his mind. It was obvious that Lio was malnourished; even an idiot could see that. Even if the doctors hadn’t fought tooth and nail with him about the treatment of it, it’d be pretty damn clear that food was a touchy subject. 

He’d spent the last month thoroughly ignoring himself to throw himself into his work and helping out his friend as best he could. Friend...right? Yeah. Friend.

Except it felt a little different than just being friends. 

He wasn’t sure he would have noticed if Aina carried around a stuffed animal a little more than usual if she was scared. He wouldn’t have felt quite so guilty when the other didn’t finish his meals. It had something to do with Lio more surviving than living for most of his life—adjusting was going to take a long time. And Galo was going to do everything to help him.

Apparently, that included letting him sleep on him. He seemed to sleep better when Galo was close by, wouldn’t wake up wide-eyed and teary as often. He slept better when Lio was close, too. 

He saw Kray when he dreamt, too. How he had seemed when they met, a hero carrying him from the flames that took his home and family. Then standing over him, Lio a heap on the floor between them. His fingertips slowly were turning to ash. He’d been too slow then, broken him from the pod just a little too late.

This is all your fault. And you wondered why I could never stand the sight of you—look at you. A rescue worker who couldn’t save just one measly Burnish, much less the whole lot of them. 

Pathetic.

He had assured the other about how he didn’t need to worry about the what-ifs, but they plagued him every bit as much. The undeniable reality was that he had just barely made it in time. It was a miracle—almost fairy-tale ish—that Galo had gotten to him. Literally kissed him back to life. He thought about that a lot. Sometimes he wondered if Lio would have kissed back, had he been able to.

But still, they were just friends. 

They had to be...right?

Lio shifted, clutching the bunny closer. He was bundled up, his breath hot against Galo’s leg but his skin ice cold. When they had first met, he had run hot. Feverish. The fire crackled under his skin, heating him up from the inside out. But that was gone, and when they took his temperature he ran cold. Almost dangerously so. Galo had given him an old sweatshirt when he got here (made him take it) and he lived in the thing, even if it swallowed him whole.

He was wearing it now, the sheer size of it making him look even smaller. It was kind of cute. 

He shook his head, shoving the thought from his head. He was still sleepy. Not thinking straight. He clicked off the lamp and closed his eyes, tucking the blanket around Lio.

“Night, buddy.”

But sleep wouldn’t come back so easily. Like he always did, Kray always shouldered his way back into the forefront of his mind. Every hug, every encouragement, every Christmas gift and birthday card—all disingenuous. All lies, shoved into a cardboard box under his bed that he had honestly considered burning. But he couldn’t bring himself to rid himself of all those memories, tainted as they were. He still somehow couldn’t bring himself to hate Kray Foresight. He was like a father—you couldn’t hate a father who had seemed to love you perfectly so easily, no matter what he’d done.

He wanted to hate him, for how he exploited and killed the Burnish, for how he hunted and hurt Lio, for how he lied to Galo for his entire life and started that fucking fire. But he just couldn’t. He had too much grief in his heart to fit in hate. 

Lio hated him and he had every right to. Galo always felt guilty when Kray was brought up—he was currently trying to buy his way out of prison. He knew, deep in his gut, that if Kray was successful, Lio would either leave the city (unlikely) or go after him on his own, along with every former Burnish in the city at his back (and everyone would turn a blind eye). He was now recognized as their sort of leader and mascot, the one asked to speak at the mass funeral. He’d still been hospitalized at the time, having trouble talking with his bruised lungs once the pain medication wore off.

But he got dressed, hid swaths of bandages under leather and a dress shirt, stepped onto a podium, and gave perhaps the best speech Galo had ever heard. His eyes were depthless for their grief but his voice didn’t so much as crack when he spoke. 

He’d collapsed right after he got off the stage. Slept for two straight days, and didn’t eat, much less speak for the next day when he woke up.

They would both dream of Kray when they slept, and they’d both silently shoulder their pain, keeping stubbornly quiet about it. But they saw through each other, silently worked to help when one or both were hurting.

Galo began to drift off. Maybe he’d make pancakes in the morning. The return to normality, the healing process; it was slow. Found in mundane things, like sleeping on the couch with someone else and making him your favorite meal. 

He wanted to show Lio normal. He wanted to find his own normal. It could start, maybe, with cleaning an old stuffed bunny. 

**Author's Note:**

> i watched promare three times in three days holy ffuckign shit them!!!! them. they are in love. ik i promised a komaeda fic but lio comes first!!!! lio comes first. why didn’t i watch promare sooner wtf.
> 
> anyway, you are loved; remember to take care of yourself as best as you can today.  
> -fen <3


End file.
